Ficlets

Strawberries

Jack didn’t often take care of Neddy. No, not like this – never like this – this was special, and that knowledge made Neddy savor it all the more.

Jack was hand-feeding Neddy. He would pluck a strawberry from the bowl Neddy had prepared, and trail fingers across Neddy’s scars, then up against Neddy’s lips.

Neddy couldn’t explain why Jack was doing this. Perhaps he was going to be punished soon.

He didn’t care. No pain would erase this memory.

Neddy closed his eyes, in bliss, and opened his mouth obediently when Jack nudged his lips again.

It felt and tasted delicious.

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